


Of Blind Dates and Men

by spacewritermonkey



Series: Blind Date Beginnings AU [1]
Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: F/F, Warrior Nun AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:54:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25970158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacewritermonkey/pseuds/spacewritermonkey
Summary: Blind Date AU I spun one night like an idiot because the idea was there. The summary is pretty much spelled out by the title. Don't worry. It's not angst.
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Series: Blind Date Beginnings AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892374
Comments: 42
Kudos: 417





	Of Blind Dates and Men

Ava couldn't believe she agreed to be set up on a blind date. Can't she be grumpy lately just because life is shit and not because of some proverbial dry spell bull her friends keep yapping on about? 

Ugh. _There she is_. 

Figures they'd try to set her up with some pillow princess. 

Bet her next paycheck this is Lilith's doing. She hasn’t even entered the damn restaurant and she already regrets getting out of bed in the first place. Why did she even bother to get dressed and waste her Friday night, when she could be at home right now, binge-watching shit shows and drinking and drowning herself in carbs? 

From the door of the restaurant, Ava can see the girl harassing the waiter after they nearly spilled water on her. 

_What a bitch. It's just water_. 

Ava feels like she's gearing up for some sports match or something with how much she's had to hype herself up for this supposed date. Although now that she’s here, she it just feels more like she’s headed towards her execution, given the way her feet have been dragging. Nonetheless, she’s here. She won’t embarrass her friend by bailing. She will try to enjoy and make nice. At least there’s food. She’ll try to give her date a chance. She will be on her best behavior.

Taking a deep breath, Ava marches in, on a direct path towards the girl and their assigned table. _Here we go._

Out of the corner of her eye, she spies one of the small and intimate booths where a lone girl is seated, partly hidden by shadows and features somewhat highlighted and muted at the same time by a mixture of pin lights, wall lamps, and the candle on the table.

Before she knows it, Ava finds her feet taking her on a sudden turn.

* * *

Beatrice could not believe it has come to this. Being set up on a date by her parents. With a man. A man she is familiar with. And a man she knows she'll despise.

But what can she do? She promised she'd give it a try after all. Besides, what other excuse could she give her parents considering that most folks know of her as single. _And straight_ , a snide voice inside her adds.

Beatrice glances at her watch and notes that it’s 5 minutes until the agreed-upon time.

He is late.

Everyone knows one must be 15 minutes early to be considered on time.

Beatrice sighs and reaches for her wine glass. She will give it a few more minutes until she leaves. She can only hope he would simply forget and not show up at all. Never mind the one or two looks of pity she had already seen thrown her way by at least one server and a fellow diner from a nearby table.

She'd rather be pitied than have to stand the presence of the man she has to share a meal with.

Beatrice takes a sip and gently lowers her drink back down. Before the flat of her glass touches the table, she is mildly stunned when someone occupies the seat across her table. 

Female. 

Pretty. 

Those eyes.

And her smile.

"Hi!" The stranger greets her with a small wave of her hand.

Do they know each other?

Is this a joke? Like one of those pranks shows she keeps hearing about?

"Hi." Beatrice finds herself nearly unable to hold back a stutter. She does not stutter. 

"I'm Ava. And you are...?" 

She trails off expectantly with one of her hands held out in front of her. 

"I'm Beatrice” she finds herself responding, shaking the hand offered.

"Beatrice. Pretty name. Fancy too if I may add."

Beatrice feels her cheeks flush. She can't even blame the barely filled glass of wine, nor the lone pitiful candle on the table for the heat.

"Thank you," is all she can come up with.

"Are you waiting for someone?" 

Beatrice notes the odd tone in Ava's voice but decides to let it go. For now. 

"I'm actually waiting for my date." The distaste must be very much evident in her voice because Ava's smile grows. 

"Blind date, huh?"

Beatrice can't help but sigh in exasperation.

"And you? May I ask what brings you to my table?" Beatrice is grateful she still remembers how to string a complete sentence together.

"Well, if you must know, I'm supposed to be on a blind date too."

Beatrice frowns. Surely her parents did not set her up with a woman. Last time she checked she was pretty sure her secret was still well kept.

Misconstruing the frown on Beatrice's face, Ava hurries to explain.

"My supposed blind date is over there." Ava motions behind her back with her thumb.

Beatrice shifts slightly to the side to peer around her companion.

She spots a single table with a single occupant. The rest, including theirs, were filled with couples. _Pairs! You meant pairs!_

"Ah. The rude lady," Beatrice states with a straight face. 

Ava grimaces. "Heard her, didn't you?"

"It was quite the task not to," she simply replies.

Ava sighs. "By any chance, are you as excited as I am about blind dates?"

With a deadpan expression, Beatrice replies, "If you mean you'd rather throw yourself in the middle of the road right now and wait for salvation in the form of a cargo truck? Then yes. I am as excited as you are." And then proceeds to slug back the rest of her drink.

Ava blinks "Wow. Don't hold back. Real specific with the cargo truck. Must have been thinking about that for a while."

"Indeed. He is also very late."

"What time was he supposed to be here?"

"8."

Ava frowns and looks at her watch. "It's barely 8:05."

Beatrice arches an eyebrow. "Arriving 30 minutes before the appointed time is early. Arriving 15 minutes before is on time. On the dot is late. Beyond that is unacceptable."

Ava stares at her for a beat longer than normal, causing Beatrice to be quite disconcerted. Unnerved by the silence and she goes on to ask, "Do you intend to stare so rudely?"

Ava finally seems to snap out of it. "For a moment there, you just reminded me of someone. Sorry." Then she proceeds to smile at her once more.

"May I ask who?"

"Miranda Priestly."

A beat passes. 

"Who's that?"

Ava's smile drops. "What—seriously?"

Beatrice only continues to look at her with a confused expression. 

"Devil Wears Prada?" 

"I'm afraid I am unaware of mythical creatures wearing couture."

"Mythi—wow. Okay. So definitely not Catholic or anything religious." Ava chuckles. "You're funny."

Beatrice frowns. "I assure you I didn't intend to be."

"Well, you are. And it's adorable."

The other immediately turns red.

In order to buy herself time to regain her composure, Beatrice motions toward the area behind Ava. "Any plans of approaching your supposed date?"

"Honestly? I was about to."

"And yet you're here."

"Well, _you're_ here."

"You confuse me greatly."

Ava sighs and slumps against the back of the booth's padded upholstery. 

"She's like a friend of a friend. They set it up. I didn't even really want to because I know _of_ her already and... Well, let's just say the reviews aren't good. But I wanted to give it a try because I know she means well. Well, not unless it's that other friend who really planned this. She can be evil. And a bitch. On a good day."

Beatrice stares at her, unsure of what to make of the string of words coming out of her...table companion. She figures it is the most apt description at the moment.

Ava continues, with one or her hands casually waving this way and another as if moving to the invisible beat of her story.

"...but then I saw how rude she was to the server earlier and it's like I don't need any further proof. Like, ‘hey, I don't like you and I doubt I will anytime soon’."

"That explains her being alone over there, but it doesn't cover your presence _here_." Beatrice points out.

"Well, I saw you here, alone. And I shit you not, I wasn't even really thinking it at first. It was just an honest observation. But then my feet brought me here. It just happened. I sat down and well I had to introduce myself, right?"

Beatrice smirks, "Are you often this _smooth_?"

Ava laughs, "I'm actually quite a mess."

Both girls spend some time staring at each other... Wondering what to do until the moment is broken by a shadow creeping over their table.

"Sorry I'm late."

* * *

It's the date.

Ava looks up to observe who gets the pleasure of Beatrice's company. Quickly allowing her gaze to flit over the man, Ava can admit that on the days she cares or is even interested in a companion of the male persuasion, she might say the guy was worthy of a centerfold.

Chiseled jaw, sharp enough nose that wouldn't look awkward when smooshed while kissing, blue eyes, tanned skin that doesn't look like it came off of a Cheeto. Dude has potential, Ava concedes.

Based on the way the suit hung off him, Ava would even bet he looked fine without it.

Based on the way Beatrice is looking at him, the girl had zero fucks to give.

"You're late." Beatrice's voice is cold and... Ava is suitably impressed. Maybe a little turned on.

 _That's hot_ , Ava thinks. 

Ava wonders if his being a dude is all that's making Beatrice look so offended. 

Until said dude opened his mouth. 

"Don't sound so upset, babe. I'm here. I can make it worth your while." The smug grin on his face just adds to the nausea, Ava grimaces.

"Oh God, I think I threw up a little in my mouth," Ava mutters.

Beatrice must have heard her for she snaps her gaze back to meet hers, the coolness seeping out of her eyes and an amused smile gracing her wonderful, _wonderful_ face.

"And who's this lovely friend of yours?" The intruder switches his attention towards Ava.

Without even the slightest hint of hesitation or uncertainty, Ava offers a hand, "Ava. I was assigned to be your chaperone for tonight."

Seeing the look on both Beatrice and the dude's faces...it took a lot out of Ava not to crack.

The guy frowns, "I'm sorry, what??"

"I was sent to ensure nothing untoward happens tonight. You know, first date and all that. We're keeping it PG and by PG we mean nothing past first base—I stand corrected. Actually, no skin contact whatsoever for tonight."

"Are you being serious right now?" He looked incredulous.

He turns toward Beatrice, "Is she serious??"

Not missing a beat, Beatrice deadpans "Saving myself for wedding night."

The guy—who Ava deigns shall forever be known simply as _dude_ —proceeds to frown and huff.

Meanwhile, Ava spies the menu beside the table setting in front of her and casually asks, "What are you having, Ms. Beatrice?" 

Beatrice cocks an eyebrow at her, but her eyes are shining. Ava dares to guess she's amused at the very least as Beatrice mouths the question "miss?" 

Ava lightly shrugs with a coy smile in place. 

Dude, on the other hand, is still confused and appears to be in the midst of working himself up to a good steam. Not even noticing the conversation in front of him. 

"You should try the fish," Beatrice recommends.

Ava wrinkles her nose. "I dunno. Would it happen to have garlic or onion in it?"

Beatrice looks at her questioningly. 

"Wouldn't wanna have garlic or onion breath in case I end up luckier than Casanova over there." Ava motions with a slight tilt of her head towards said man while grinning like a fool.

Beatrice doesn't know if she wants to slug the woman in front of her or drag her by the collar towards somewhere more private. She’s never met anyone she’s had an immediate…connection with, to say the least. Certainly not like this, where she can’t believe she’s trading quips and conversing with like they’ve known each other awhile. Beatrice has a handful of close friends and has had some girlfriends that were almost _more_ , but in the end they all predictably left. She understands that’s mostly her fault. She’s never felt truly comfortable in her own skin despite knowing the truth and admitting as much to herself.

Yet here stands a complete stranger in front of her, hardly enough time to even know anything beyond her name, and Beatrice already feels like she should know her. That they should know each other. Perhaps in another life, if she was inclined to believe.

The audacity! But at the same time, it's that _audacity_ that causes something deep within Beatrice to unfurl like this is exactly what she’s been waiting for. And she didn’t even know it.

"Listen. I don't know whose idea it was to set up this...chaperone nonsense," a voice pipes up and both ladies look at him in surprise. Ava shoots a quick look at Beatrice who interprets it readily as, _he's still here_!

"But this isn't what I signed up for when I agreed to this date." His tone appears to be heated, which puts Ava slightly on alert.

Beatrice appears unfazed and stares right back at him unflinchingly.

Guy scoffs and shakes his head at Beatrice’s silence and seemingly bland expression. "Wow. When my friends told me you were stone-cold, I didn't believe them. You're as frigid as they come, huh?"

In split second, Ava is up and standing close to him "You sonofabitch—"

But to her surprise, something is holding her back.

Or someone, rather.

Ava looks toward her hand, surprised to see Beatrice holding on to her wrist.

"He's not worth it, Ava." Beatrice’s voice is soft, calm, and placating, with her eyes looking into hers that it simply disarms Ava in a second.

She relaxes, but immediately throws a glare back at the blustering ball of male ego in front of her, pleased to see that Beatrice's no-nonsense delivery hit its mark. The red travels all the way up from his neck and onto his face, Ava notes with glee.

"You bitch—" he begins but Beatrice immediately cuts him off along with a casual dismissive gesture of a hand. 

"Stating the obvious. Classic. If you could have come up with something more original, I might have even been moved to call security to throw you out and ban you from this establishment. Sadly, you bore me with your banality."

 _Oooooh, I didn't know fake tan could also translate to white,_ Ava chuckles to the tune of her thoughts.

"Before we end up making a scene in which—no doubt— _you_ will get the butt end of the stick, may I suggest you leave?" Ava decides to butt in, mentally asking her newfound friend for stepping in.

"I will not be humiliated this way," he hisses, his finger pointed out as if aiming to jab at the cause of his ire. 

"Or...what?" Beatrice taunts with a smile. It wasn't evil. It wasn't a smirk. It was a smile that simply said she found his temper and anger...entertaining. Something that causes her happiness. 

Moved beyond anger, perhaps unconsciously—which speaks more about his true nature in Ava's opinion—the guy dares to pull his hand back as if in mid-swing.

In a flash, and with almost nary a sound, nearby tables were shocked at the sight that greets them at one of the booths. 

A man is on his knees, face contorted in pain. A woman stands over him with a knife against his throat. Another woman, still seated in her chair with her legs crossed, has one of his hands in her grasp—granted, uncomfortably twisted in a position that might be cause for the look on his face—while her other hand holds her wine glass that appears to have been mysteriously refilled.

Ava has to ask, "Hey! When did your glass get a refill?" while looking forlornly at the empty glass on her side of the table.

Beatrice rolls her eyes and motions towards the man on the floor before them.

"Oh right. Him." Ava shifts her attention back at the would-have-been date.

"Look, we warned you about causing a scene. You want to quit while you're ahead or do you want this popping up all over social media soon?" Ava whispers into his ear.

"Fuck," he hisses. "Fine. Fine!" he nearly shouts.

Both women let him go simultaneously and he hurries to get back on his feet, trying to get some feeling back onto his hand while rubbing his neck with the other.

Ava is seated once more across from Beatrice as she declares, "I shall have the salmon." 

Beatrice grins, "I think there's onion in there." 

"Have some as well then. That way, we both have onion breath," Ava teases.

“Your family will hear about this from my parents," he just has to get the last word in. 

Ava rolls her eyes. "First off, wow. You're still here. Second, what are you, 12? Is that you, Draco?" Ava can't help it and flips him off.

"Who's Draco?" Beatrice asks.

Ava turns to the other woman in question with wide eyes.

"Who—wha…you don—huh?"

"What kind of name is that?" Beatrice mutters as she takes a sip of her drink.

Ava shakes her head and reaches for Beatrice's hand that sits atop the table. "Oh, Beatrice. You play your cards right, we have at least 8 movie dates to go on and seven books I plan to lend you and get you to read."

"I'm still here!" He waves his arms about along with the unnecessary declaration. 

"Yeah! And still interrupting!" Ava flings back. "Dude. Get a clue. You're unwanted. Jeez. So needy." Ava rolls her eyes in exasperation.

"Okay. Movie dates? Just who the fuck are you—” An evil smirk transforms his lips and the rest of his face, as if finding way to gain the upper hand once more. “I see. Into girls are you, Beatrice? Is that why mommy and daddy had to arrange for a real man to warm you up? This is precious. Wait till your parents get a load of the big ol' lesbian that you are." He leans forward, placing his fists atop the table.

His words rankles Ava like no other so far.

And, to Ava's consternation, she notes that there's a flicker of emotion his words have elicited from Beatrice.

"No need to tell us anything, young man. We know." A voice behind him interrupts.

If Ava has an idea of who arrived without looking, Beatrice's next words cement it. "Mom. Dad."

* * *

"I believe my daughter couldn't have made it more than obvious how your attention is unwanted."

"Or how much she is uninterested in a 'real man'."

The deadpan expression with which Beatrice's mother delivers the last sentence proves more than ever to Ava how the apple does not fall far from the tree.

A man and woman finally cross Ava’s line of sight to stop right beside the would-be date. Taking in the well-dressed couple and the size by which the dude seems to have shrank to in their presence, Ava would hazard a guess that Beatrice’s parents are a big deal. And hot, Ava muses, spying a look at the older woman whom she surmises could be Beatrice’s future.

 _At this point, I can see where she gets her looks from,_ Ava chuckles inwardly and swears to never let on to Beatrice that the first thought that comes to mind when she saw the couple behind the dude was "Ugh. MILF."

Ava snaps back to the moment to realize that finally, the dude is gone.

And in his place... "I should go." Ava begins to rise from her seat.

However, a hand on hers and another on her shoulder stops her short.

She sees that it's Beatrice hanging onto her hand with a look she can't quite yet decipher. And the other from her father who is smiling warmly down at her. "Please. Won't you join us for dinner?"

"Uh..." Ava finds herself switching her gaze between all family members.

"Please." That is all Beatrice says and Ava finds her ass dropping back down on the cushions.

Given the booth's somewhat curved seating, when Beatrice's father moves to sit beside Ava, and Beatrice's mother moves to sit beside her daughter, this causes both younger women to scoot and move further inwards…and eventually meet in the middle.

 _Trapped_ , Ava thinks at first. 

... _but what a cage_ , she also adds.

 _Oh man, at least it's not her mother on my other side,_ Ava chuckles to herself mentally.

Beatrice gives her a smile and Ava feels her brain sputter like the engine on her last car.

"So, how long have you two been seeing each other?"

Beatrice whips her head around towards her mother so fast, Ava feared for the other girl's neck.

Ava decides to help as she felt marginally at fault. Everything went to shit just because she decided to ghost her own blind date.

"Actually, we just met." Ava knows her look turns sheepish, hoping they wouldn’t pry too much into how she and their daughter happened to meet.

Both parents are obviously surprised.

Beatrice's father frowns and turns to meet his daughter’s eyes.

"Honey, you know you don't need to hide anymore, right? We saw and heard everything. And it's okay if you'd rather date girls."

Beatrice's mother rolls her eyes and shoots her husband a look. "I told you your idea was stupid."

"Hey! It was not stupid. A bit ill-planned but look! Our daughter's got a girlfriend already! Am I brilliant or what?" Sporting a wide and obviously proud grin, his hands motion towards Ava as if presenting a prize on a game show. His wife groans and motions to the waiter for her own wine to drink.

"Dad!" Beatrice wants to hide somewhere.

"Really? Ill-planned? You call setting her up with a moron who can't even come up with an original insult just 'ill-planned’?"

"That's your takeaway? His insult was unoriginal?"

"We raised our daughter to be strong and independent. Water off our backs."

Ava finds herself trying to follow the "discussion" going on between the older folks but unfortunately is also inexplicably drawn to the lovely flush gracing Beatrice's neck...all the way up to her face.

"Mom, dad. Please. Not in front of our guest." Beatrice pleads.

"Oh no. I'm fine. Please, carry on," Ava is grinning.

"You sure she's just a guest?"

"Ava just told you the truth. We just met tonight."

"Huh."

"What huh?"

"I guess no one wins the bet."

Beatrice's eyebrows raise high. So does her tone. "What bet?"

Beatrice's mother sighs. "Your father thought that forcing you to go on a blind date with a man would hopefully _encourage_ you to tell us...’no’."

"Wait, you guys bet on me coming out by forcing me to go on a blind date?"

"Well...to be fair, honey, it's not as if you really had a metaphorical closet?" Beatrice’s dad sounds sheepish at having to say the words.

Beatrice almost looks affronted. "Are you saying you...knew? You knew all along?"

Beatrice's mother rolls her eyes once more. "Darling, I could have found your strap on with my eyes closed." Then proceeds to take a sip of her wine.

"MOM!"

"JEEZUS CHRIST THAT'S MY DAUGHTER!"

Ava cackles out loud.

Both exclamations from father and daughter made Ava laugh so hard their table begins to attract attention.

"Tell me, darling. Am I wrong?" The look on Beatrice's mother just dares her daughter to call her a liar. Either about the strap on or her metaphorical closet, Beatrice no longer knows.

Beatrice's father on the other hand waves a waiter over. "Please. A bottle of whiskey." 

"What year, sir?"

“Well preferably this second, please."

"He was asking about the age, sweetheart."

“Oh. I don't care. So long as it's strong. Please. I'm dying."

Ava is still trying to wipe the tears from the corner of her eyes.

"As I was saying—" Beatrice’s mother places her glass down with a gleam of something in her eyes. 

"For the love of God, I still like to think of my girl as my little girl, please." 

"Well, from what I heard, our girl's not so little." Ava’s laughing so hard she feels like she can’t breathe. She spies a glance at Beatrice and can see that red really suits her. And that the flush seems to go farther down her neck too.

"WHAT THE HELL—are you trying to bring me to an early grave?" The patriarch of the family sputters.

"Calm down, dear. I was talking about her dress size."

Silence blankets the table.

"Why? What EVER were you thinking about, dear?"

_Evil_ , Ava thinks. Beatrice’s mother is a force to be reckoned with and Ava can’t help but think about her daughter and is further enamored with the idea of hopefully getting to know her further.

Of course, Ava can't help herself. She rarely can. This would be something Beatrice would have to learn about her as time would pass.

"My lady. You are so fine. If you weren't married, I'd so ask you out." Ava says this with an elbow on the table and hand cradling her chin as she stares in admiration at the older woman.

Beatrice whips her head around so fast once more. "Seriously, Bea. Please. Chill with the neck movement. I hurt for you." Ava unconsciously feels for her own neck.

"I'm just saying your mother is so awesome." Ava grins when Beatrice's stare remains probing.

_Yeah. Never let her know about the MILF thing._

Beatrice's attention is suddenly caught by movement beyond her. Ava turns. "What's up?"

"Your blind date appears to be leaving." Beatrice crosses her arms.

"You were on a date with another?" Suddenly, the old man's gaze turns disapproving.

And Ava begins to sweat, especially in close proximity to the man she just might have upset. "No! Not really. I mean...we were supposed to? It was a blind date set up by a friend who...uh...but see...I didn't really want to..."

Beatrice finally takes pity on Ava and intervenes. "Leave her alone, dad. The girl was something else. Ava arrived almost right on time to help me out, and I in turn helped her out of a bad blind date of her own."

Ava nods her head eagerly. "What she said."

Beatrice's mother gives her a small smile. "If my daughter says so." Then holds up her glass in a symbol of "cheers."

_What is it with both mother and daughter and their drinks?_

"Now, what bet?" Beatrice turns the table on both parents.

Both turn silent and exchange glances.

“It doesn't matter. I mean, technically no one won." Beatrice's father hedges.

"Parameters, please."

 _Super hot_ , is all that Ava’s mind can supply right then, as her eyes are focused completely on the girl beside her.

"Fine. Simply put. You accept to go on this date, I win. You tell your father no, he wins."

"You bet against me?" Beatrice turns hurt eyes to her mother.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, darling. I just bet on your stubbornness. I figured you will eventually just state the obvious when you were ready."

Beatrice blushes at the matter-of-fact way of her mother.

"And you, dad?"

"I'm sorry if it looked like we were having fun at your expense. But honey. I was just getting tired for you."

"You were tired of deleting copies of the CCTV, you mean."

Beatrice's eyes widen. "What CCTV?"

"You kept bringing those girls out in the guest house. Remember, we installed a motion sensor camera by the trellis."

"Simply put, your dad feared he'd either become an alcoholic or never be able to look you in the eyes by the time you got around to admitting things."

Trying to move past the lump in her throat, Beatrice asks "Uh...since when did...you install that, um, last camera?" Beatrice stammers. She doesn’t stammer, dammit!

Ava has immediately come to realize she likes all facets she's seen so far of Bea. But stammering mess Beatrice? There's a soft spot for her in Ava's heart.

Elsewhere too.

"Let's just say it was around the time of...what was that girl's name?" Beatrice's mom snaps her fingers in an unconscious movement of trying to recall.

"I think it was that girl from her culinary thing. Alex?" 

"No. Alex was the one after the culinary girl." 

"Maeve." 

"That was last year. Do keep up, sweetheart."

"Wow. Quite the track record there, Beatrice." Ava whispers into her ear.

Beatrice blushes. "It's nothing serious. They knew it." 

"No need to explain. I get it. No strings." 

Beatrice hand is suddenly firm on Ava's thigh. "No. Don't misunderstand. Please."

Ava is surprised at the weight of Beatrice's look. "I didn't think I could take having anything remotely serious. Not then. Not when I _thought_ my parents didn't know."

She proceeds to explain in a low voice, leaning closer, "I didn't want to have to hide anything that was remotely real. If it was the real thing, I wanted to be able to express it to everyone. I wanted to be able to show it. I'd be proud of _her_ and be proud of what we have."

Ava is quiet for a beat, understanding the unspoken being communicated by Beatrice. "You said _then_... And now?"

"Julie!" The exclamation and simultaneous slap of a large hand on the table causes both girls to nearly jump from their seats.

"That's her name. Julie. Oh, that kid. Pretty, but a little hollow if you ask me."

"DAD!!!" Beatrice will not have her parents insulting her _friends_.

"That's just rude." Her mother shoots back.

"Oh, please. Like you weren't thinking it when she came around the kitchen and we had to have a conversation with her.”

"I didn't say a word." If the older woman’s fingers tighten a little around the stem of her wine glass, no one mentions it.

"You didn't have to. When she mistook taupe for toupee? Your eyes rolled back so hard I thought I'd never see them again."

"Bloody thing. Those two don't even come close in terms of pronunciation." She takes another sip of her drink.

Ava tugs at Beatrice's sleeve.

Beatrice's exasperated look melts away at the sight of the seemingly ever-present grin on Ava's face.

"So, your parents are so cool. Definitely a fan. But you're way cooler. Any chance you might want to go on a date with me sometime?"

Beatrice is quite stunned and surprised. Maybe she didn't just imagine every look and word that passed between them from the moment Ava sat down in front of her. Ava really wanted to go on a date. With her. And is asking right in front of her parents whom Beatrice thought wouldn’t understand and would never accept her truth.

Even with the truths she certainly didn’t expect to be unveiled that night—by her parents no less.

"For crying out loud, Beatrice. Say yes sometime this year, will you?"

"Darling, seriously. Must you meddle?"

"She’s taking too long. The ice in my drink is melting because I was waiting for her answer before taking a drink."

"Well?" Ava nudges Beatrice.

"Yes. Yes, I would love to go on a date with you."

The staring match between the two are broken by a happy exclamation, “YES! I'll drink to that!" Beatrice's father raises a glass.

And then proceeds to stand up.

"HEY, EVERYONE!"

_Oh no._

"Oh no."

"MY DAUGHTER'S GOT A DATE!"

Ava is laughing aloud once more.

"SHE SAID YES TO THE CUTEST THING TO EVER ASK HER OUT!"

Ava stops laughing.

"Did your dad just make me out to sound like a toy from a happy meal?"

"EVERYONE, ROUND OF DRINKS ARE ON ME!" And raises his glass once more up in the air and to loud cheers from the restaurant patrons.

Beatrice doesn't know where to go from here. Trapped in place with her mother on one side. Ava and her father in the other.

"She has like, barely a few inches over me!"

Beatrice blinks. Ava and her father are suddenly in a heated debate over their height difference?

"Don't worry about them, darling. Your girlfriend's just sensitive about the 'cutest thing' bit. And your father...well he seems to enjoy having someone to argue with who isn't me for a change." Beatrice's mother pats her daughter's hand comfortingly.

“She's not my girlfriend."

"Not yet" her mother teases.

"Mooooom..." It’s been awhile since her daughter whined.

"Oh please. You always get the girl.

"Mom! Jeez."

"Alright, alright. Kidding aside. I know you. And I know you looked at her differently from the moment we saw you two together… So. You do want her to become your girlfriend, right?"

Beatrice can only shrug.

"Then it'll happen. Besides, I like her. She already seems to fit in with us just fine." Her mother motions over to her other side where Ava and her father are now sharing the bottle.

Ava is laughing over something her dad says. Something warm and fuzzy settles inside her as she feels Ava take her hand, even as her evidently would-be girlfriend is busy trying to engage her father with talks of alcohol.

Ava shoots her a smile and squeezes her hand.

It’ll happen. Who would have thought that a blind date would end this way? Beatrice feels a wide smile overtake her face, so wide it almost hurts.

“It’s good to see you smile, darling.” Her mom nudges her gently before brushing a kiss against the side of her head.

“Now,” her mother turns her attention to Ava who looks equal parts happy and a bit nervous at the sudden focus of the older woman.

“Eat up, Ava. You play your cards right and my daughter might show you the guest house. You’ll need the energy.”

Eventually, the rest of the restaurant’s patrons learn to ignore the horrified shouting from the booth. It’s going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Are people having fun with AUs though? Also, pardon the mess and my writing style (which confuses me too actually). I don't have people to check my work, unfortunately. Basically, whatever tidbits you are all showered with, that's all me and whatever gets me typing. Let me know what you folks think.


End file.
